


Dreaming as the Days Go By.

by saturatedParadoxes



Category: Black Butler, Kuroshitsuji
Genre: Gen, a+, idk i finished volume 13, it was good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:30:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturatedParadoxes/pseuds/saturatedParadoxes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A boat, beneath a sunny sky,<br/>Lingering onward dreamily,<br/>In an evening of July-</p><p>Children three that nestle near,<br/>Eager eye and willing ear,<br/>Pleased a simple tale to hear-</p><p>Long has paled that sunny day,<br/>Echoes face and memories die,<br/>Autumn frosts have slain july.</p><p>Still she haunts me, Phantomwise.<br/>Alice moving under skies,<br/>Never seen by waking eyes.</p><p>Children yet, The tale to hear.<br/>Eager eye and willing ear,<br/>Lovingly shall nestle near.</p><p>In a Wonderland they lie,<br/>Dreaming as the days go by,<br/>Dreaming as the summers die.</p><p>Ever drifting down the stream-<br/>Lingering in a golden gleam-<br/>Life, what is it but a dream?"<br/>-Lewis Carroll.</p><p>Immortality is kinda rough for Reapers and Demons alike. Especially when you grow to care for people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreaming as the Days Go By.

Undertaker looked at the old locket, his bright eyes damp and blood trailing his face. The locke of hair was in a ringlet, thick, bloodstained, and red, Belonging to a Madame Sutcliff he once knew.

Not like she was dead, Just... Gone.

It was rare he wore anything besides his day-to-day black robe. Or showed his eyes. He still kept that chain on his waist, however, because it was all too precious to him. He wore bright red, the same he grew to love over his years. Bright, Fiery, Passionate. 

Undertaker stood, His voice sounded like a croak as he muttered to himself "Ever drifting down the stream," he moved to the next, a familiar shade of blue, but seamed to glimmer gold in the sunset "Lingering down the golden gleam," next, a vibrant gold.

"Life, what is it but a dream?"

**Author's Note:**

> This was a short spurt of imagination. I hope y'all have a nice day!


End file.
